


Liberation

by Satyricon



Category: Chikara (Professional Wrestling)
Genre: M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 19:44:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6870931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satyricon/pseuds/Satyricon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened after Kevin Condron freed Troll from the chain that kept him a slave to the field general of the flood? Set directly after Tomorrow Never Dies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liberation

It’s a while after Snow Troll’s liberation when he finally speaks. When Kevin Condron freed Troll from the chain that kept him a slave to Jimmy Jacobs, he was overwhelmed and scared. Kevin lost Troll in the back for a while; he’d hidden himself behind some of the gear that was used to set up the ring. Frightened and panicking, a very hyper-vigilant Troll clutched his red wrench to his chest, cowering anytime anyone came close to where he was hiding. Once everything had quietened down and people began to disperse from the building, Troll slid down the wall, clutching his knees to his chest. He’d been held captive by the flood for so long; he had nowhere to go anymore. No one trusted him; he’d done things for the flood because he’d had to in order to survive…no one seemed to understand that. 

Running wasn’t an option; Jimmy was going to come after him. He was too proud to let someone take something that belonged to him. If he took himself back to the flood now, perhaps he wouldn’t be punished as severely as he would if the zombie Princess had to come looking for him. Panic began to take a hold inside of him like someone pulling a rope tighter and tighter until he couldn’t breathe. The thought of being punished again was too much, he was so scared; he’d barely survived the last time Jimmy had disciplined him. The pain had been…Troll didn’t like to think about it. Every time he did he swore he could hear the twisted laughter of the flood’s field general, feel the tip of a sharp blade dragging over his skin; swore he could hear the sickening zipping sound of his skin parting under the knife as Jimmy carved intricate patterns into his back while he cried. No…he couldn’t take that again; he didn’t want to hurt anymore. The last year of his existence had been nothing but pain, fear and loneliness and he couldn’t bear to go back to it. 

Tears dripped down the well-worn tracks on his cheeks and on shaking legs he picked himself up. His head felt strange, like he was in a daze. It sounded like everything was underwater, dull and far away. His feet led him outside, wrench held in a death grip as his heart pounded in his chest with such force he could swore he could hear it. The car park was dimly lit by the soft glow cast by a few street lamps, surrounding him in shadows. The cold night air was frigid but Troll barely noticed, he didn’t feel much of anything right now, limbs numbed by panic. It felt like a thousand eyes were watching him from the shadows, like at any second Jimmy Jacobs was going to emerge from the darkness, surrounded by his underlings. He imagined that sick smirk gracing the field general’s features that did little to hide his barely contained rage, made all the more menacing by the sound of the chain scraping along the concrete as he dragged it behind him; a cruel promise of the pain to come. 

He was so lost in the horror his own mind had construed it took a moment for him to hear the sound of a soft voice calling out from behind him. 

Troll whipped around, nearly hitting his liberator with the wrench. Kevin Condron stood before him, a foreign face without the mask he had been accustomed to. But the familiar deep chocolate eyes that he knew were staring at him with concern; and his hand was stretched out toward Troll. 

“It’s alright, Troll, you’re safe now”.

Troll trembled on the spot, crouched slightly like he was ready to dart off at the first sign of sudden movement.

“Come with me, I’ll take care of you”. He’d heard these words before. From Jacobs. Troll had been by himself for so long that he craved any form of warmth and affection. Jimmy knew this, and like he did so many others things, he exploited it. The zombie Princess had offered him a sweet reprieve from everything after a being unyieldingly disciplined by the Titan of Titor; a part of Troll knew that he wasn’t sincere but he was so desperate for human contact that he followed him like a fool. 

Kevin could see the uncertainty in Troll, having no doubt been deceived so many times before. “Hey” he whispered, crouching slightly so that he could meet the eyes of the frightened creature. “I know you’re scared but I’m not going to hurt you”.

Troll let himself meet Kevin’s eyes, warm and sincere. 

“I won’t let anyone hurt you again, Troll. You’re safe now”. 

Tears welled up in Trolls eyes again. Every day that he was dragged around on a chain, punished for his disobedience, starved, degraded, hurt…he dreamt that someone would come and offer him safety. An end to all of this. It came in the form of Kevin Condron. 

The wrench dropped to the ground with a clang, Troll fell to his knees and a momentous surge of emotion flooded his being as months of pain, isolation and fear for his life all crashed into him at once while he cried openly into the night air. Kevin crouched down and wrapped the Snow Troll up in his arms, pressing a soft kiss against his forehead and gently rubbed his back in an effort to sooth him. He couldn’t begin to imagine what Troll had been through at the hands of the sadistic Jimmy Jacobs, the zombie Princess had a penchant for the macabre. 

“Let’s go home, Troll”.

When Troll does speak, it’s unexpected and out of the blue. They’d settled on the couch to watch a movie, Troll leaning heavily against Condron’s side. The small creature peered up from under the blanket they’d wrapped themselves in. For months Kevin had patiently safeguarded Troll through his psychological torment, a parting gift from the field general of the disbanded flood. He stayed with him through the panic attacks and sleepless nights emanating from the constant nightmares that gripped Troll in his sleep and refused to let go. He stayed with him while he slowly began to learn how to trust again. Over all this time, Kevin hadn’t once tried to pressure him in to speaking; he’d accepted that the Snow Troll would speak when he was ready to. When it finally happened, nothing could have prepared Kevin for the little “thank you” that came out as more of a squeak than anything else, entwined in his melodious Lithuanian accent.  
Kevin wrapped the Troll up in his arms, the creature tucking his head underneath Condron’s chin, closing his eyes and revelling in the comfort of knowing that he was safe and loved.


End file.
